Tango In the Night
by MizJoely
Summary: They shared a dance. A single, sensuous dance. Then they shared a night together, a single, incredible night. He gave her a rose…and then a son, although he wasn't to know that for more than two years. Khanolly. Artwork by sherlolly29 on tumblr, used with permission.
1. It Takes Two

_A/N: This is follow up to my drabble "Tango" in "Kiss & Other Khanolly Ficlets". I wrote it in one sitting and posted it in three parts on tumblr, then today when I looked at it I thought, ugh! This needs massive editing. So this is the first part of the massively edited version. :) Rated M for eventual sexy times, but right now it's just a tad angsty. Enjoy!_

* * *

They shared a dance. A single, sensuous dance. Then they shared a night together, a single, incredible night.

He gave her a rose…and then a son, although he wasn't to know that for more than two years.

Khan stared out over the water, wishing (not for the first time) that cigarettes weren't almost entirely unknown on 24th century Earth. Oh, they weren't illegal and they weren't impossible to obtain, but they weren't easily purchased in a corner shop these days, either. So although he wished for one, he made no effort to get one. Not tonight, when he was thinking about the life he'd so carelessly created with a woman he barely knew, a woman who no doubt thought of him as a traitor and a monster, the murderer who'd blown up the 'Kelvin Memorial Archive' and was responsible for the death of Admiral Christopher Pike and so many other. The man who'd crashed a starship into San Francisco in an attempt to destroy Starfleet Headquarters.

And she'd be right; he was all of those things and so much more. Things she couldn't possibly have imagined, in her wildest dreams. One-time ruler of a third of the world, former leader of a powerful group of genetically altered superhumans who'd been created to bring peace but had, instead, only served to further destabilize an already precarious political situation and nearly led to a third world war. Thankfully he and his surviving Augments – a pitiful seventy-three out of nearly a thousand – had long fled Earth when the third world war did break out, so even history couldn't lay those deaths on his shoulders, bowed as they were with the weight of so many others.

Yes, he'd been all that. But the one thing he'd never been, not truly, was Commander John Harrison.

The man she'd willingly given herself to, the man she'd danced with and allowed to bring her home when the dancing was over. The man whose clothing she'd stripped off, the man who had removed her yellow, form-fitting sheathe with an impatience he hadn't felt in literal centuries.

The father of her child was never John Harrison, but always Khan. Khan Noonian Singh.

How, he wondered as he gazed out into the darkness, would she feel about him now that he was back?

**oOo**

Molly sighed as she watched her son toddle off to meet up with his friends, the small group of children still allowed to remain with their parents, deemed too young to be traumatized by their life in a penal colony. The last one remaining on Earth itself, where those whose crimes weren't harsh enough for them to be exiled to an alien world were forced to live out their lives. She didn't want to think about what would happen in the next two years, when her son was considered too old to remain under her questionable influence, when he would be shipped off to live with – well, she had no idea. Considering his parentage, simply fostering him off to a civilian family seemed out of the question, not when he was still under scrutiny, while Starfleet suspiciously watched him for any signs of incipient megalomania.

It didn't help that his mother was considered no better than his father. She twisted her lips in a bitter smile at the thought. Molly hadn't committed treason, but had been doubly tainted by her close association with Admiral Marcus, and by her personal relationship with the man she'd known only as John Harrison.

The father of her child. Who, as it turned out, hadn't been John Harrison but rather a warlord from another century, from an Earth so barbaric it hardly seemed real to her.

Khan Noonian Singh.

Even now, nearly three years after the fact, she found it hard to believe. Yes, John had been an enigma in spite of what she'd read about him in his official files, but an Augment from one of Earth's darkest periods? A man who'd been in cryosleep, drifting in space with his crew of seventy-two fellow Augments, and awakened by the Admiral to help him create weapons of war? The truth of his origins had been such a closely guarded secret that it turned out only Marcus knew the truth – or rather, he was the only one to survive who knew the truth. Molly shuddered at the memory of how his crimes had come to light, how he'd had the Section 31 elite assassins take out the scientists who'd helped awaken Khan, and even arranged the deaths of the crew of the starship that had found the _Botany Bay_ drifting in space. The original explosion had been deemed a tragic accident, but was now known to be deliberate sabotage, on Marcus' orders.

Madness. There were times when she thought that of herself, that surely she must have had a complete break with reality due to the immeasurable stress of her job with Section 31. And then Jamie would clamber into her lap or demand her attention, and she was snapped back to reality with an almost painful feeling of joy. He was her jewel, the one good thing that had come out of the tragedy her life had devolved into.

In looks, he was a tiny mirror of his father: same dark hair, although his was curly where John's (Khan's) had been sleek and straight; the same blue-green eyes with flecks of amber, cat-shaped and dark lashed. The same sharp cheekbones, as his baby fat was gradually outgrown; the same fair skin and long, tapered fingers.

The only thing about him that she could claim entirely as her own was his temperament, placid and even, so difficult to ruffle. Here he was, her Jamie, technically in the middle of his Terrible Twos, and still the most cheerful, even-tempered child she'd ever seen. Whether his obvious intelligence was natural or some diluted product of his father's genes remained in dispute as far as the Starfleet geneticists who'd examined him were concerned. For right now he was a normal, healthy, well-adjusted little boy whose mother loved him more than anything else, even herself.

She wondered if his father would be proud of him. If he would see the similarities between them or only the differences. If he would care, or if he would be indifferent. Augments were bred to be superior; would Khan feel that a half-Augment child was a disappointment, inferior, a mistake?

She discarded that line of thought with difficulty; it had been cropping up more and more, no thanks in part to the therapist who'd been recently assigned to her 'rehabilitation' and had been trying to get Molly to discuss her relationship with Jamie's father.

Molly snorted. Rehabilitation; hah! She wasn't a criminal and never had been; she'd been railroaded, to use a quaint term her grandfather had been fond of. She'd worked for Admiral Marcus in Section 31, worked closely with him for several years. How could she not have known of his clandestine activities, his desire to create what he'd termed a preventive war against the Klingons? And how could she have not known who it was she'd taken to her bed? Hadn't she done so on the Admiral's orders?

No matter how many times she said no, she hadn't known and no, she certainly hadn't had sex with John Harrison because she'd been ordered to, no one believed her. Nor did they believe her when she insisted that the single night they'd spent together had been the extent of their relationship.

As she watched Jamie embrace one of his friends – Kirstie, she thought the little girl's name was – Molly wondered bitterly if he'd even have been allowed to be born if she'd revealed the name of his father as soon as she'd discovered what it truly was.

Once again she wondered what had happened to Khan, after he'd crashed a starship into San Francisco and brought the number of his 24th century victims into the thousands. What sort of a madman had she allowed between her legs, what kind of a woman did it make her that even now she still ached for him?

"Molly Hooper."

She sucked in a shocked breath at the sound of her name, spoken in a voice she'd never expected to hear again. She turned, eyes wide with disbelief and anticipation, to see Khan standing behind her in the uniform of a prison guard.

"Collect your son, Dr. Hooper," he said softly, but with an unmistakable hint of steel. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of tinted lenses, making his expression hard to read, but Molly thought she detected a bit of softening as he tilted his head downward. "We're leaving."


	2. Three Is A Magic Number

_A/N: Thanks for the reviews, folks! They encourage me to keep writing!_

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It was insanity, pure insanity to even think of going anywhere with this man, yet Molly found herself on her feet and calling for Jamie without a moment's hesitation. When her son ran over and threw himself into her arms, grinning broadly, she heard Khan's inward hiss of breath and had a bare second to wonder if she was making the worst mistake of her life before the three of them were caught up in a transporter beam and carried away into the unknown.

They materialized in what Molly's trained eye instantly identified as the hold of a small interstellar transport. Not a starship, possibly not even a Federation ship, but the details of its origins were hardly important at the moment. As long as it could take them far away from Earth, to some world where she and her son wouldn't be forced apart 'for his own good', that was all she needed to know. Jamie was making curious sounds and squirming in her arms, his signal for 'put me down Mummy' that she steadfastly ignored as she continued to assess their current location. "Where are we going?" she asked Khan, not yet meeting his eyes.

She noted the seventy-three cryotubes – one conspicuously opened – and the medical equipment surrounding them before finally turning to study their rescuer. Or kidnapper, depending on how things turned out.

"Elsewhere," was all Khan answered her, clearly waiting until she met his eyes before speaking. He'd removed the dark glasses and was offering them to Jamie, who seemed entranced not only by the mirrored lenses but by the man giving them to him.

"That's not a very useful answer," Molly said as she nodded her permission to Jamie, who had turned to his mother even as he reached out for the shiny present. He clutched it in his hands and giggled as he tried to place the oversized lenses on his face. Molly allowed herself an indulgent smile as the glasses slipped off his nose, but it faded as she once again met Khan's gaze.

"It's safest for you if you don't know our destination until we're out of Federation space," he replied, but his eyes kept sliding over to Jamie. Molly tensed as he reached out to touch her son's – their son's – face, stroking his fingertips along the boy's cheeks and tickling him under the chin. She relaxed slightly as Jamie giggled and batted Khan's hands away, then tensed again as her son asked, "Who you?"

"My name is Khan," his father replied. "I've come to take you and your Mum somewhere safe. I hope you don't mind."

Jamie appeared to be considering his father's words before giving a bit of a nod and warbling out a happy, "OK!" Then his attention was back on the mirrored lenses; he turned them this way and that as he studied his slightly distorted reflection and giggled at the sight.

Molly was glad Khan hadn't identified himself as Jamie's father; it wasn't the right time, and Molly wanted to prepare her son before revealing that particular truth. Especially since she had no idea what this prison break would mean for their future – or what exactly Khan wanted from the two of them. It was clear he felt some sort of attachment to Jamie, which was a relief, but had he brought Molly along only as his son's mother…or was there another reason?

She sternly pushed down the flutter of anticipation that arose in her midsection at the thought that Khan wanted her as well as his son; even if that wishful thinking turned out to be true, it didn't mean anything more than him wanting her in his bed. She was a normal human, after all, not an Augment; surely he wouldn't allow himself to have feelings for her? Or act on them if he did?

"I've prepared quarters for you and Jamie," Khan said, interrupting her dismayed thoughts as he led them out of the hold and into the ship proper. "Your belongings have already been beamed aboard."

"Shouldn't you be on the bridge?" Molly called after him as he strode down the corridor, his long legs eating up the distance as she hurried to keep up. She briefly considering putting Jamie down, but that would slow them even more than his familiar weight in her arms.

Khan glanced over his shoulder, then slowed his pace as he realized he'd been moving too quickly. "The ship is on autopilot; as soon as we beamed aboard it was programmed to break orbit. Our transponder is giving off a false identity and I've masked our ion trail. Once we're out of the solar system I've set a Romulan cloaking device to further hide us from pursuit. Not that I expect any for some time," he added with a hint of smugness as the three of them continued down the corridor. "As soon as the transporter took us out of New Zealand holograms of the three of us were activated. As far as your fellow prisoners and their children are concerned, we simply walked away. And your tracking device was deactivated at the same time," he added, glancing down at the clunky device encircling Molly's left ankle, just above the top of her nondescript black shoe and below the hem of her trouser leg. "We can remove that at any time."

"It sounds like you've thought of everything," Molly replied, impressed in spite of herself. "Can I ask why?"

He squinted at her in confusion. "Why? Why did I rescue you and our – you and Jamie?" he asked, correcting himself at the last second. Good; Molly approved. Jamie clearly didn't see the similarities between himself and his father, and she'd already decided that now wasn't the time for her to try and explain who the stranger was.

She nodded in response to Khan's question, and his expression turned to one of annoyance. "Do you really have to ask that, Molly? I rescued you because you were wrongly imprisoned, for a crime you didn't commit. You were never a traitor to the Federation, but Starfleet was willing to let you rot there for the rest of your life. And they would have taken Jamie from you as well," he added in a low voice, his eyes once again straying to their son as he reminded her of the most painful consequence of her imprisonment.

This time, Molly saw the pain in his eyes. "You love him," she said, just as softly. Not that Jamie couldn't hear them, of course, but he was too enamored of the mirrored lenses to pay attention to the two adults at the moment. And it was nearly his nap time; she hoped he would be able to fall asleep in a strange bunk. At least he showed no fear, not even of the transporter, which he'd never experienced before. Truly he was his father's son.

Khan nodded, once, glancing over to meet Molly's eyes. "Not just him," he added in a low voice, after only the slightest of hesitations.

With that disquieting admission, he turned away and speeded his pace yet again. "Come, I'll take you to your quarters so you can rest. I'll need your help in reviving my crew later." He paused. "Unless you want me to return you to Earth. It's not too late for that."

Molly shook her head, unable to find the breath to speak just yet. No, she'd allowed Khan to take her and she had no intention of surrendering herself back to Starfleet's tender mercies. No, she as too busy at the moment trying to wrap her mind around Khan's startling revelation. He loved her? How was that possible, how could he believe that after knowing her for only a single night?

Then again, she'd fallen in love with him that night, so why should she be so shocked that he'd apparently done the same?


	3. Going Forward

_A/N: For anyone who read the original ficlet on tumblr, here is where I start to veer off a bit from what I originally wrote. Thanks for all the lovely reviews, I appreciate them!_

* * *

As he led Molly and Jamie to their quarters, Khan quietly damned himself for giving too much away too quickly. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten Molly off, and yet he'd just declared his feelings for her. Foolish, but then, the heart was a foolish organ, too often overriding the logic of the brain. He'd let his heart guide him far too often in the past year, but this once he thought it might lead to something good rather than something destructive.

As they reached the door to the quarters Khan had set aside for Molly and Jamie (named after her deceased father, a good name, he approved), their son let out a long yawn and sleepily rubbed his eyes. Molly pressed a soft kiss to his forehead and asked for the tinted lenses. Jamie whined and clutched them tighter, but once they were inside the spacious room and he saw the bunk that was now crowded with his own collection of stuffed animals, the toddler willingly surrendered the new in exchange for the familiar. Khan watched as Molly helped Jamie settle into bed, his arms tightly holding onto a bright blue octopus. Then Molly dimmed the lights and settled into a chair, placing the lenses on the low table near the head of the bed. She was humming a lullabye and it took Khan far longer than it should have to tear himself away, entranced as he found himself by the domestic scene playing out in front of him.

He would have expected Jamie to be overstimulated by the events of the day, too wound up for a nap, but within five minutes he'd drifted off to sleep, the tip of his left thumb hovering over his pink lips. Lips that were shaped exactly like those of his father, missing only the scar Khan bore on the lower right side to make them complete duplicates of one another. Since he'd gained that scar in a fight to the death with a rival Augment, he rather hoped Jamie would never have one to match.

Molly rose to her feet, leaned down to press another kiss to her sleeping son's head, and only then seemed to realize Khan was still there. "Is there…something you wanted?" she asked, the tension in her posture and strain in her voice causing his forehead to wrinkle in confusion until she darted her eyes toward the suite's other doors. One of which lead to the bathing chamber, and the other to her own bedroom.

"Our son," he said keeping his voice pitched low so as not to disturb Jamie's sleep. "Now that I've met him, I find myself reluctant to leave him, even though I should be on the bridge at the moment." The confession came easily to him; he'd already admitted his love for his son and his son's mother, so there was no weakness in honesty.

Molly gave him a wry smile as she walked over to join him near the door. "Well, I can promise we're not going anywhere without you," she said, her voice lightly teasing. Then she did something that utterly confounded him; she stood up on her toes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "Go," she said when she'd released her light hold on his neck and stepped back. "Do what you have to do to keep us safe." She glanced over at Jamie, then back at Khan. "We'll both be here when you come back."

"The layout of the ship is available on the computer, so you can find your way to the mess and anywhere else you want to go – nothing's off limits to you," Khan responded, feeling uncustomarily off balance by Molly's words and actions. Yes, he'd saved her from an intolerable situation, but surely there should be more anger and hostility in her towards him for his actions after he'd stolen the _Vengeance_? Why wasn't she demanding explanations, warning him off, keeping him at arm's length?

He carried his puzzlement with him the entire walk to the turbolift, where he finally shucked his hat, dropping it carelessly to the floor, and from there to the bridge. Once he'd seated himself and began searching for any signs of pursuit, however, he put his personal concerns aside and focused on the question of their safety.

**oOo**

Two hours later, confident that they'd successfully slipped out of Earth's orbit and exited the solar system, with the ship running steadily at an enhanced warp seven and the Romulan cloaking device working at maximum ability (and tweaked into an even higher rate of efficiency thanks to his own modifications), he checked on Molly and Jamie's whereabouts. As expected, they were in the officer's mess; with one last glance at the controls, he left the bridge, confident he would be instantly notified if any threats emerged.

Jamie was eating something dinosaur-shaped, and grinned happily as soon as the doors slid open to allow Khan entry. "Khan!" the little boy crowed, waving his fork and nearly sending his – chicken? – flying.

Molly caught his little hand and gently scolded him about being careful, then gave Khan a small smile of her own. "Everything all right?" she asked.

He nodded, crossing the room to join them at the table where, he saw, Molly had also served herself a plate. Some sort of pasta dish with a rather tantalizing aroma. Now that he was in the presence of food, he was reminded that it had been several days since he'd last eaten, and that even his superior metabolism had its limits.

Seeing his interest, Molly pushed the plate over to him. "I'm full," she said, although less than half of it appeared to be gone. She shrugged at his skeptical look. "My appetite hasn't been very good for several years now," she murmured, glancing over at Jamie. Who had returned to enthusiastically – and rather messily – eating his supper.

"I imagine you don't sleep very well, either," Khan replied, accepting the plate and methodically ingesting the pasta. It had a red sauce and some meat he couldn't identify, possibly Deltan _zharghana_ sausage but a bit less spicy.

"No," was all Molly said. They spent the next several minutes in comfortable silence, broken only by Jamie's occasional comments about his food and requests for a biscuit, which Molly agreed he could have once he'd finished his chicken and green beans.

Both items rapidly vanished from Jamie's plate; chocolate biscuits and a cup of milk were duly produced, while Khan carried the now-empty dishes over to the recycler and dumped them in. It was all very domestic, something his followers would be astounded to see him so comfortable with – but then, they'd never had the opportunity to see him during peacetime, and certainly never with a child of his own blood. Nor with that child's mother; yes, he'd had many women with which he'd shared his bed and his body, but none of them had held his interest for very long, even the Augments.

Not like Lt. Molly Elizabeth Hooper of London did. She'd originally trained as a xenopathologist but had accepted a lateral transfer into administration working for Admiral Marcus ten years ago. A mystifying change in specialties unless one knew she had at that time been co-opted into Section 31, Starfleet's best-kept secret. At least, it had been; after Admiral Marcus had been exposed for his many crimes, including and most importantly to the Federation, his plans to start a preventive war with the Klingon Empire, Captain Kirk had done his level best to expose that secret organization to the light of day.

None of which was any of his concern, not now. The Federation and the Klingons could go to war or become allies; it mattered not the slightest bit to him. He and his family – Molly and Jamie most definitely included – would leave them far, far behind and find another world to colonize and make their own.

Once Jamie had been cleaned up and the table wiped down, Molly allowed Khan to escort them on a tour of the important parts of the commandeered ship. They ambled along at Jamie's pace, but he soon tired and demanded to be picked up – by Khan, rather than Molly, much to his father's pleased surprise. He glanced at Molly before so much as stooping down, and she nodded her permission, a small smile playing about her lips as she watched them interacting.

As soon as Jamie was settled on his hip, Khan felt a bliss unlike any other he'd ever experienced. Nothing could possibly compare to holding his child in his arms, feeling the small head resting so trustingly against his shoulder. His eyes closed briefly as he fought to control the surge of protectiveness that threatened to overwhelm him, but opened them as soon as he felt Molly's small hand on his shoulder. He looked down to see her smiling up at him understandingly. "Jamie," she said, catching her son's attention. He lifted his head and peered down at her.

"Mummy!" he crowed, reaching down to pat her cheek. They'd stopped outside the entrance to Engineering, and Khan watched the interaction between mother and son, absolutely entranced at the obvious love between them.

"Jamie, sweetie, do you know who our new friend is?" she said, keeping her eyes fixed on her son.

The toddler gave a vigorous nod before grinning up at Khan. "He Khan," he said, patting him on the cheek the way he'd just done to his mother. "My Khan!"

"Yes," Molly agreed. Then she took a deep breath and added, "But he's also your daddy, sweetheart."

Khan felt his heart skip more than a few beats at Molly's words. He stared at her, stunned and humbled at the trust she was placing in him, then felt Jamie's hands on his cheeks again. "Daddy?" Jamie repeated, looking puzzled. His tiny brow wrinkled and his lips were pursed, as if he was mulling over the concept. Then his face lit up with another one of those dazzling smile as he met Khan's gaze. "My daddy!" he crowed and planted a smacking kiss on the tip of his father's nose.

Khan hugged him close, his eyes closing again, choked with emotion and feeling entirely on the back foot. Molly's hand was warm on his shoulder, rubbing comforting circles against his flesh, and he once again resolved never to allow any harm to come to either one of them.

His crew was his family and always would be, but his son and his son's mother had just become his number one priority.


	4. Feels Like The First TIme

_A/N: Oookay, so apparently when I first uploaded this chapter I skipped everything before the break below, explaining better to me some of the "that seemed a bit abrupt" comments I received, LOL! So here is the FULL final chapter for your reading enjoyment!_

* * *

Khan eventually returned to the bridge to check on their progress; although he had the ship's computer programmed to alert him to any signs of pursuit or the presence of other ships within their long-range scanners, and although his self-designed auto-pilot appeared to be working flawlessly, he still felt the need to confirm their safety for himself. He left Molly and Jamie investigating the ship's small sickbay, his heart clenching as Jamie waved and called out a cheerful, "Bye-bye Daddy!" when he left.

A few hours later, he returned to the quarters he'd set up for them, to watch Molly as she prepared Jamie for bed. "Daddy back!" the little boy crowed as Khan entered the room after receiving Molly's permission to do so. "Gimme baf!" he demanded, and Khan thought his chest might burst with the mingled joy and terror he felt at hearing his son acknowledge him thus.

Molly guided him through the bath process, but left them alone once Jamie's hair had been shampooed and his chubby little body thoroughly washed. There were a number of plastic toys that the toddler seemed to feel were vitally important to share with his father, and Khan solemnly listened to his excited chatter, a pleased smile flitting about the corners of his mouth. When Molly decreed bath-time to be over, he was almost as disappointed as Jamie, although far less vocal about it; his son protested quite loudly that "I no prune, Mummy!" even though his toes and fingers had wrinkled up rather dramatically.

Khan was given the honor of reading his son a bedtime story, and found himself unable to start for a long moment. He and Molly exchanged glances, hers knowing, his wondering, and then he finally found his voice and read about a shy young space ship that wanted to enter a race even though his friends all worried that he would lose to the more boisterous competitors.

When the shy little ship won the race through his pluck and perseverance, Jamie's eyelids were already drooping. Khan leaned over and pressed a kiss to his son's forehead. "Night-night, Daddy," the drowsy little voice piped up, and Khan rose abruptly to his feet, overcome with emotion.

He didn't deserve this, didn't deserve to have this precious little boy calling him 'Daddy' and accepting him into his life. He didn't deserve Molly's trust; he'd recognized her desire for him not to claim himself as Jamie's father when they first beamed aboard, and respected that desire. What he didn't understand was how and why she'd changed her mind so quickly.

His mind whirling, he choked out a, "Good night, Jamie. Sleep well," then turned to make his good-byes to Molly, who had moved over to tuck Jamie in and kiss his rosy cheek. But the look on her face stopped him in his tracks; he stared at her as she shook her head and raised one hand in the timeless signal for 'wait'.

After she'd lowered the light, she walked quietly to Khan's side. Placing her hand in his, she gave a slight tug, and he followed wordlessly as she drew him to the door to her own bedroom.

The intercom, as he'd already explained to her, would automatically activate if Jamie woke up or called out for her. Or else she could set it onto an open channel and be assured that she could listen for her son all night long. He'd half-expected her to want to sleep in the same room as him – or for Jamie to want to join her – but it appeared that his son was far more independent than other children his age seemed to be. A sign of his superior genetics, or merely his mother's loving guidance? Both, more likely, he decided.

Then the door slid shut behind them, and Molly set it so that an alarm would sound before it opened again, although she didn't lock it, and then she was in his arms, pulling his head down to hers for an urgent, lingering kiss.

**oOo**

Molly ran her fingers through the dark, glossy locks of his hair, her heart quickening, her breaths coming in short gasps that forced her to end the kiss long before she wanted to. Her hand was on her zip, tugging it down, as Khan began undoing his own clothing, kicking off his boots and shucking his tunic and trousers as she worked her way free of her coveralls.

She'd almost forgotten about the tracking device still magnetically clamped around her left ankle, but before she could ask for help, Khan was kneeling before her, reaching out and wrenching the supposedly impregnable material from her body. He tossed it over his shoulder, meeting her gaze with a smouldering intensity that made Molly's knees weak. Grinning a predator's grin, he helped her to step out of her coveralls before sliding his hands up her thighs and insinuating himself between her legs.

Molly gasped as he lipped her pale, pink flesh, reaching around to grasp her plump little arse in both hands. Then his mouth found its target, the sweet, tantalizing place between her legs, and he allowed himself another taste of the heaven he'd been missing for nearly three years.

Her moans were all the encouragement he needed, but the way she subtly shifted her legs to give him more room, the way her hands had drifted down to clutch at his hair made the moment all the sweeter. To think he'd actually been concerned – not afraid, certainly that was an emotion he would never admit to! – that she might see him only as a means to an end, a way to leave Earth with her son and flee the intolerable imprisonment into which she'd been forced. But no, clearly she was as eager as he to pick up where they'd left off three years ago. Yes, it had only been a single night they'd shared, but it had been a night he'd never allowed himself to forget.

She still wanted him; the musk of her arousal was a heady aroma, and the taste of her beneath his tongue even sweeter. He needed more, to be deep within her, but was determined to taste her climax before even entertaining the thought of achieving his own.

With that goal in mind, he worked her swollen folds with his tongue, kneading her buttocks with both hands, sliding his fingers into the cleft and delicately rubbing her smaller opening the way he remembered her enjoying that intoxicating first night they'd spent together. She gave another soft moan and shuddered, then threw one leg over his shoulder and begged him for her release.

No, not begged; demanded it, like the unlikely warrior he'd always known her to be. Even when she was pretending to be simply Admiral Marcus' PA, Lt. Molly Hooper had stood out to Khan's keen senses and superior intelligence. He'd danced with another woman merely to gauge Molly's reaction; he'd noticed her the instant he'd entered the ballroom even though she hadn't sensed his attention. Nor should she have; he'd gone to great lengths to feign disinterest in her, knowing that nothing would please the thrice-cursed – and now, thankfully, very, very dead – admiral more than to have another hold over his prisoner.

But he'd been unable to resist the urge to test her on the dance floor; he'd already hacked into her personnel files and discovered that among Lt. Molly Hooper's many unknown talents was her skills at ballroom dancing. Particularly the Latin dances.

Ah, that tango they'd shared; he remembered it vividly, how he'd approached her with the traditional (and rather hokey) rose between his teeth. How he'd offered it to her, along with his hand. How she'd accepted both and danced with him. He could still feel the burn of Marcus' glower at the two of them, which they'd both ignored, far too wrapped up in one another to allow anything to distract them.

With a hoarse cry, Molly wrenched him back to the present, her nails digging into his scalp and her entire body shaking as she reached her peak. He lapped eagerly at the pooling moisture between her legs, then eased her leg off his shoulder and rose to his feet, catching her swaying form easily in his arms. He lifted her up and carried her over to her bed – their bed, if she would let him stay for more than just this moment – laying her down and covering her body with his own.

She opened her legs and reached between them, touching herself, covering her fingers with her juices; then, with a wicked smile, she took him in hand, stroking his straining erection as she parted her lips for another demanding kiss. He took her mouth eagerly, but only allowed her to fondle him for a few seconds before guiding himself into her opening. She willingly ceded him control, their tongues dueling as she reached around to grip his arse just as tightly as he'd been holding hers. Then he thrust into her, delighting in the way she gasped into his mouth, the feel of her other hand as she once again curled her fingers into his hair, tugging him closer to her. The tips of her breasts against his chest were twin flames, burning into his flesh; he roughly palmed each delicate peak with one hand while supporting himself over Molly's petite form with the other.

They moved together, caught up in the give and take of lovemaking, instinct and muscle memory serving to keep their movements synched in a glorious rhythm until suddenly Molly gave voice to a raw scream of pure pleasure. His hips stuttered, his breath left him in a shuddering gasp, and Khan buried his head in her shoulder as he emptied himself into her willing body.

The fell asleep together as his stolen ship sped away from Earth and the Federation and all the pain and betrayal he'd faced at Starfleet's – Marcus' – hands. Their life as Section 31 agents was over; Molly loved him, he knew she did, in spite of his horrendous actions, spawned by grief and anger and, very nearly, madness.

They would never look back, none of them; he and Molly would awaken his crew once they were far enough from Federation space that pursuit would rendered unlikely. He would get to know his son, whom he'd loved from the moment he'd learned of his existence. He would have not only his crew-family, but Molly and Jamie as well.

There would be challenges, yes, but challenges they would all proudly face.

Face, and conquer.

In his sleep, Khan smiled and held Molly closer. In her sleep, she did the same.


	5. Dancing In The Dark

_A/N: OK, so I royally screwed up and posted only the last part of the previous chapter. Now I've fixed that and added in the missing bits, so if you don't mind, go back and reread that before reading this apology epilogue/prologue, which features flashback smut to that first night Khan and Molly shared._

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_**Dancing In The Dark**_

She kept the rose. She didn't know why; surely it wasn't sentiment, not for a man she'd slept with only once. She should have discarded it as soon as she returned to her quarters, or as soon as she discovered the truth of who he was. It would no doubt be used as evidence to damn her for a liar, to 'prove' that her relationship with 'John Harrison' wasn't simply a one-off, that they'd meant more to one another.

But she couldn't bring herself to toss it down the disposal chute; instead, she carefully pressed the drying bloom between two sheets of replicated wax paper and placed it between the pages of one of her father's beloved antique books. An anatomy text, appropriately enough, heavy enough to break a toe, as she'd so painfully discovered when she'd accidentally dropped it on her foot when she was twelve. Certainly thick enough to press the rose into two dimensions, to be preserved, as she'd foolishly believed, forever.

Instead, the book, the rose, all her belongings had been seized by Starfleet once 'John Harrison' had been revealed to be Khan Noonian Singh. Once Admiral Marcus' perfidy had been revealed by Captain James Kirk of the USS _Enterprise_. Once San Francisco had been devastated as Marcus' pride and joy, the dreadnaught _Vengeance_, had been crashed into the heart of the city.

Once the man she'd allowed into her body for one, glorious night had been revealed to be a mass murderer.

And still she couldn't seem to stop herself from dreaming of that night, from reliving it – their shared dance as he lead her through the steps of a sensuous tango, the way he'd murmured his address into her ear at the end of the dance, the way he'd greeted her at his door once she'd made her clandestine way to Baker Street, adroitly avoiding all detection by any Section 31 surveillance with an ease that later astounded her.

But not that night. No, that night she only had eyes and thoughts for the man waiting to greet her. He'd shed his formal uniform, was clad only in the black, long-sleeved undershirt and tight trousers, his feet bare, pale against the lush grey carpet. She'd entered his flat, with its old-fashioned inward-swinging door; her mouth had opened in a gasp as he'd slammed the door shut behind her and then slammed her up against the wooden portal, his lips demanding on hers, his hands tugging impatiently at her dark coat, pulling it from her body to drop to the floor. She'd moaned at the feel of his hard, muscular form against her body, the ridge of his erection pressing insistently against her hip as he ground himself against her.

Her yellow sheathe, the most daring dress she owned and had worn in defiance of Marcus' preference for her to fade into the background, where he found her most useful, had quickly joined her coat, leaving her clad only in a miniscule thong. Khan – or John, as she'd known him at that time – had hummed appreciatively before lifting her easily in his arms and lowering that plush, sensual mouth of his to her breasts, suckling each nipple into a hard, wet nub, swirling his tongue around and nipping gently with his teeth while she gasped and moaned. Her legs wrapped themselves around his waist and she tugged impatiently at his shirt, impressed at his strength as he continued to hold her with one arm while she removed the impediment. He shift to the other arm and then the shirt had fallen to the floor while she took in the sight of his pale, muscular chest, completely hairless and utterly gorgeous.

His lips had sought hers as both arms wrapped around her waist, and she'd reveled in the searing, possessive kiss, opening her mouth eagerly and thrusting her tongue into his mouth, where it had met his in an urgent duel. She'd managed somehow to lower his trousers and pants, tugging his gorgeous cock free and marveling at the size of it as she encircled it with one hand, impatiently guiding him to her opening, slick with arousal. It had taken some maneuvering, but he'd eventually slid deep inside her, stretching her beautifully and pulling moan after moan from her throat. He'd marked her with his mouth, sucking greedily at her pulse-point; she'd had to resort to her personal medi-kit to erase the dark bruises he'd left on her flesh, regretfully, but it wouldn't do for there to be visible evidence of this encounter come morning. Not if she didn't want a reprimand or worse from the Admiral.

But that was for the morning. That night had been incredible, with Khan thrusting deep within her, gasping her name as she tugged at the sleek, dark hair, mussing it as she dug her fingernails into the flesh of his scalp. The movements of his hips had increased in pace as she'd done so, bringing her closer and closer to the precipice for which she'd been straining, until with a stangld cry she'd tumbled over, her legs tightening around his waist, eyes squeezed tightly shut as she rode out her orgasm.

He'd followed her soon after, their first coupling a brief one, followed by a more languorous session in his luxuriously appointed bedroom. Silk sheets, the softest microfiber duvet she'd ever felt, all in dark, masculine colors – navy blue and a deep aubergine – that well matched the man she'd taken as her lover.

All too soon the morning had come; with the first rays of dawn she'd slipped from his bed, reclothed herself as she watched his sleeping form. He hadn't awoken even when she'd pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, but had murmured something unintelligible in his sleep, and his lips had curved up in a brief smile. Then she'd slipped into her shoes and coat, and seen it.

The rose. She'd dropped it on the floor, where it had miraculously escaped being crushed, and she'd hesitated only a moment before picking it up and taking it with her.

She hadn't realized then that it wasn't the only souvenir she was taking with her; hadn't known until nearly a month later that her birth control implant had contrived to fail just when she needed it most. By the time she did realize her condition, the truth had come out about 'John Harrison' – but even then, even knowing what a beautiful monster she'd taken into her bed, she had no thought of terminating the pregnancy.

She'd come away from that night already in love with her child's father, and even knowing the truth about him had done little to dim her emotions. And she would never let it destroy her love for the life they'd all unknowingly created.

Molly sighed and looked down at her son. Jamie lay cuddled between her and Khan, his blue-green eyes wide open, a smile on his beautiful little face, his father's arm wrapped lovingly around his small form. Molly reached up and tenderly caressed Khan's hair, smiling at him as he gazed down at Jamie, the life they'd brought into being.

The one being in the entire universe neither of them would ever allow any harm to come to. She knew that she would sacrifice anything, even herself, even Khan, to protect their son – and that he felt the same way. Oh, they loved one another as well, there was no question about that, but Jamie Hooper-Singh held their hearts more tightly in his tiny hands than he could possibly know.

And that, Molly thought contentedly as Khan pulled her into a sweet, loving kiss, was as it should be.


End file.
